Woodwork Angels

Well hello. You appear to have stumbled onto that which I can call my own, Woodwork Angels. You obviously clicked that link for a reason. I'm not going to bother asking what that reason was, because I probably don't care. The only reason I'm here, is to answer the question I know no one's asking.

What is a Woodwork Angel, and why is that the name of your blog?


Thank you mysterious voice from inside my head that's probably the early stages of schizophrenia. I'm glad you asked. I'm a Woodwork Angel. Always there, always listening. A guardian angel that happens to blend into the woodwork. I will be the first to admit, I am not an angel sent from heaven, for I am merely mortal, but I do my best to help the greater good. Offer an listening ear to those who wish to speak, an open shoulder to those that need to cry.

However, that only covers the Angel part of our little title. The Woodwork part is what I mentioned above, someone who blends into the background. Despite my offers of being that which one can vent to, my history and the like have caused my kindness to fall on deaf ears. I have resigned myself to the fact that the guardian angel I wish to be will never conquer the spiteful demon I am.

HOWEVER!


This blog is in no way a pity party for how shitty my life may seem to my angsty teenage self, so get of your self righteous high horse and save your shit for someone who gives an actual fuck. No no no, the purpose of this blog is for me to post whatever comes to my sick and twisted mind, regardless of how attention whorey/vague-enough-to-be-mildly depressing/passive-agressive/self righteous/whatever it may seem to you. That's what I thought at the moment, and I wanted to post it for whomever actually reads this shit, not that anyone probably does, but it's whatever.